


Under the Influence

by leici



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 22:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2245209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leici/pseuds/leici
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt and Aaron won the Stanley Cup in June 2006 with the Carolina Hurricanes. During the off season, they were both picked up by the New York Rangers via free agency. This story is set the night of the Stanley Cup win in Rod Brind'amour's home in North Carolina. Mildly inspired by <a href="http://users.frii.com/lacyk/mattcullen_aaronward.jpg">this photograph</a> from the locker room celebration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Influence

**Author's Note:**

> Nickname Translator: Dougie is Doug Weight, Roddy is Rod Brind'amour.
> 
> Written April 2007.

They were all so drunk. All of them. Well, not Dougie, but he was so hopped up on painkillers he might as well have been.  
  
Roddy's ex had the kids, which was a smart decision based on how many wasted hockey players were still at his house at four in the morning. The Cup was there too, on the middle of the dining room table, already damaged and sticky with a mix of champagne and beer. People's jerseys were strewn about, soaked with liquor, most of their owners left wearing whatever they'd had on under their gear.  
  
Matt's shirt had long sleeves because he didn't like the way his elbow pads rubbed. But even with Roddy's air on full blast it was hot in the house, and he was soaked through with sweat and alcohol. So he took it off. He wasn't the only topless one anyway. And he had his locker room pants on, so it wasn't like he was running around naked.  
  
Aaron's shirt had short sleeves, so he left it on. He found Matt in the garage, trying to hold a red plastic cup and prime the keg at the same time, and not having much success. So he pumped it for him, as long as he returned the favour.  
  
When those cups were empty, they had a fight over who got to use the bathroom first. Aaron won, but Matt shoved into the room with him and waited there, to make sure no one cut him in line. It's not like they hadn't seen each other piss before.  
  
After that, their cups seemed to have vanished (though neither one of them thought to check the bathroom), and on the way to getting new ones they happened to accidentally walk in on Cam Ward and his financée "celebrating" in one of Roddy's kid's rooms. Hopefully the captain would change the sheets before his kids came home.  
  
Matt and Aaron never found their cups, but they did find an open bottle of champagne sitting unattended on a table in the hallway. They didn't feel like sharing, so they took it and cordoned themselves off in another bedroom, this one appearing to be some sort of generically decorated guest room. They drank the liquor straight out of the bottle, passing it back and forth as they sat side-by-side, propped against the headboard in the near darkness, lights off to keep their location hidden.  
  
During one pass, Aaron grabbed too high on the neck and caught nothing but Matt's fingers. Matt's grip faltered and the bottle tipped, spilling room temperature liquid across his lap as they both worked to right it. Aaron, bottle secured between his thighs, reached down to wipe at the spill, fingers brushing over Matt's pelvis, finding more than wetness there. Matt made a strangled yelp as Aaron's palm glanced over his cock, half hard from intoxication and the still buzzing exhilaration of a championship win.  
  
The fumbling stopped, Aaron looking Matt straight in the face as he deliberately cupped his hand back over Matt's genitals, squeezing softly just to feel.  
  
"Don't do that," Matt mumbled, though he made no movement to push Aaron's hands away.  
  
"Why not?" Aaron's fingers curved around the shape below them, squeezing again with a different purpose.  
  
"'Cause," Matt replied lamely, voice drawling drunkly. Aaron's fingers tightened again, stroking upward once, and Matt moaned, making the rest of his sentence come out breathlessly. "You shouldn' be touching... Touching me like..."  
  
"Why not." Aaron repeated, but it wasn't a question this time, and his voice was throaty. Matt didn't respond, and his cock twitched in Aaron's hand when he stroked him again. Half a dozen passes later and Matt was completely hard, pushing against the fabric of his pants, filling the curl of Aaron's fist, pre-cum adding to the dampness already there from the champagne. It chaffed, and Matt grimaced at the feeling, grunting softly.  
  
Aaron noticed, because Aaron was paying attention to every sound Matt made, every expression on his face. So he yanked Matt's pants down to his knees, pulling Matt a few inches farther away from the headboard in the process. Matt cried out in surprise, but Aaron's hand was back on him even as he tried to move back into a more comfortable sitting position. It really seemed that all of this was turning Aaron on an impressive amount, his own sounds of pleasure louder and more enthusiastic than Matt's.  
  
Matt, himself, was still confused about why this was happening, but enjoying it far too much to stop it. His lower back ached, and he felt dizzy and disconnected, but watching Aaron's fingers ride along the length of his dick was an awesome sight, and the feeling of the skin on skin contact was making the lower half of his body melt. Aaron was panting almost directly into his ear, and the muscles in his forearm and biceps tightened with each stroke in a way that Matt suddenly found really hot. He didn't mind at all when Aaron got even closer, the rough scrub of his poorly shaved mustache rubbing against his cheek as he breathed lowly into Matt's ear, saying over and over I want to make you come.  
  
Matt's hand came up and grabbed the first part of Aaron it could find - his opposite wrist - and clung tightly, eyes closing against a wave of concentrated arousal. He pulled his feet up towards his body, bending his knees, shoving his pants down to his ankles and tugging them off one handed. Completely naked now, he dropped his thighs wide, arching into Aaron's touch, his spine arcing as he tipped his head against the headboard. Aaron groaned beside him, his hand moving faster, sweat running down the inside of his forearm, collecting at the crease of his wrist. His mouth was wet against Matt's ear, lips brushing as he spoke, voice broken with need.  
  
"Matty, fuck... Matt, I wanna make you come. Please... Please, Matty... I want to make you come..."  
  
Matt's fingernails bit into the sensitive skin at the inside of Aaron's wrist and he sucked a sudden breath, turning his head to look Aaron in the eyes, his own wide and dark. His body shook and went rigid, his breathing hard and fast, exhalations warm on Aaron's face. His eyes closed for a handful of seconds as he held his breath, and when he opened them again, his voice returned with a long, whimpering moan, cock jerking in Aaron's fist as he came.  
  
Aaron was shaking as Matt sagged against the headboard, chest and neck stippled with a red flush, dark hair clinging to his forehead. Aaron carefully unwrapped his fingers from Matt's waning erection, holding his hand up to stare at them, coated in Matt's semen. He ran the tip of his thumb along the side of his forefinger, feeling the slickness against his skin, swallowing around a dry mouth. His attention was drawn away when Matt shifted, moving to lay flat on the bed at his side, still panting softly. Their eyes locked and Matt could instantly see the need still clouding Aaron's eyes.  
  
A long moment later, Aaron moved forward, the two of them drawn inward, Matt lifting his head as they pressed their mouths together. Aaron climbed over Matt's body, laying flat on top of him, one leg on either side of Matt's left thigh. Matt threw his arm around the back of Aaron's neck, bending to press his elbow against the top of Aaron's spine as he arched up to kiss harder. His tongue pressed deep, lips rubbing hard, rough stubble scraping as he tried to swallow Aaron whole.  
  
Aaron bucked down as he kissed back with equal force, rubbing his dick against Matt's hipbone through his shorts. His whole body tingled, wanting his own orgasm so much more now that he could smell Matt's. And it seemed Matt wanted it too, hands moving over Aaron's back, fingernails scratching against lycra and cotton as he moved underneath, encouraging Aaron's humping. Irritated by the fabric between them, Aaron reached down and shoved his shorts down as far as he could, naked cock finding the shallow dip between Matt's upper thigh and pelvis. He fucked that spot with all the determination of real sex, grunting as he thrust, simultaneously screwing Matt's mouth with his tongue.  
  
Matt's jaw ached, even six months since the fracture, but he didn't care. He kissed Aaron with all his strength, fingers gripping at the short hair at the back of Aaron's head. He wanted Aaron to get there, wanted to help as much as he could from his position beneath. He could feel Aaron's abdominal muscles bunching against his side, imagined what his thighs looked like, his ass, everything tensing, rocking Roddy's guest bed back against the wall, bedsprings squeaking. Matt wanted to gasp at the image that filled his mind - them from a distance - and it seemed Aaron needed a breath at the same moment as they came apart.  
  
Aaron's voice immediately fell to thick moans as he quickened his pace, eyes locked on Matt's face, droplets of sweat raining down. It was like after a game, hair damp, face flushed from physical exertion. But Aaron's expression was obviously different, nostrils flared, eyes wide, teeth clenched with determination. He sobbed suddenly, expression almost begging, and Matt nodded, as if granting permission. Aaron's breathing caught, and he began to shudder, Matt's voice becoming a near silent litany of please, please, please.  
  
Aaron's semen spilled across Matt's belly and side, sticking between them as Aaron collapsed, heart hammering in his chest, lungs heaving. They laid tangled together long enough for Aaron to regain control of his breathing, coming apart as if waking from a dream. Matt still felt buzzed, head spinning as he found his pants and pulled them on, wiping away the stickiness on his stomach with his palm. He watched Aaron tug his shorts back up, then lean over the side of the bed to find the forgotten bottle of champagne - empty but intact - on the floor. He set it needlessly on the bedside table and they both got up, standing silently face-to-face just inside the doorway. Both thought they should say something, but neither one could seem to find the words. After an abbreviated moment of silence, Aaron opened the door and they both wandered back into the party as if nothing had happened.


End file.
